Her Temper
by atinarox
Summary: His heart was suffering, and it was for the only girl who could ever hold his heart. He drew her closer to his body, feeling her every curve and detail mold into his own young but chiseled build." HitsuHina CHAPTER 4 IS UP! R&R please
1. How It Began

I don't own Bleach. If I did there would be way more HitsuHina moments, oh, and Momo would be fighting in the war.

This fanfic can be taken as a series of oneshots or a full story complete with moments in the life of Momo. Each chapter will be a different part regarding Momo's strength as a shinigami. Basically, her reiatsu/spirit power and her strength as a person. The chapters will be in sequencial order and may refer to each other on a couple occasions.

Toshiro will be the other character usually showing up in the story because he needs to be there since I fully support the two as a couple.

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"Leave. Him. Alone."

Those three words held all her passion and fury, swirled together into a sweltering blend of fire. Just two emotions shook her lithe body as though it were too small a container to withhold such dangerously strong sensations.

She never understood why, but ever since she could remember, white hot flashes of fury would ignite at her core and spread all the way to the end of her fingertips. Power would radiate from the source and coat the insides of her form.

Though rare and when she least expected these surprising emotions her mind would disconnect from her usual logic and common sense, becoming its own entity.

It was frightening.

It was addicting.

Those were the moments she felt the most alive. Those were the feelings which made her think and act without any abandon. Those were the instances she understood what power really was.

And she could not help but love it.

Of course, these thoughts would only pass through her subconscious, failing to reach her as an important matter to ponder about. But who could blame her, for each time this phenomenal feeling was activated so was the special force sleeping inside her soul.

Each time, the energy would bloom, slowly at first as if awakening from a deep sleep, soon to seep out of its resting place akin to a cobra, movements inconspicuous and planned out as it tracks down its prey. Bending to the will of its mistress it grows in accordance to the size of her heightened emotions, expanding past the limit of her body to rise to the endless skies of the world surrounding it.

It was usually around that part where the victims of her temper were cowering with frightened eyes, quivering shamelessly underneath her presence or had taken heel and bolted for safety.

In this case, the three boys took the latter option.

Exhaling softly she felt with every cell of her body the dangerous and protecting force stream back into her soul like lukewarm water returning to the ocean after a particularly large wave crashing upon the land's shore.

Senses slowly returning, the girl looked down upon the, crumpled and now forgotten, interest of her three victims.

A boy.

Lying before her, she noted he was younger than her by only a few years with snowy white hair that was tainted with the dirt of the earth's surface. Upon his face were bruises from one too many punches and a still bleeding cut lip, most likely caused from him biting it while taking the brutal hits. No doubt the three boys were older than him, but, as her eyes swept his body from top to bottom, taller than him as well. He was, to put it bluntly, short. Shorter than her which was a surprise judging on her own height.

But it was his eyes that caught and held her curious gaze.

Green. No, blue. No, **both**: an unusual mix producing a stunning turquoise bright enough to be mistaken for stars, yet deep enough to make a person wonder how far you can sink before drowning in them.

Her new found interest extinguished all lingering thoughts or feelings previous to when she found the bullies beating up the boy. Getting onto her knees she gently lifted his head, aware his sharp eyes were watching her warily, and laid it on her lap. Absently, the tips of her fingers stroked the top of his left ear in a feather light touch, down to the side of his face gently, feeling the shiver ripple down his spine.

Subjecting to warmer emotions, she felt it once again. The power inside her body leaking out as it did only moments before, but this time it enveloped the boy and her in a protective, secure layer.

She could tell he sensed it, for he let out a small surprised gasp, his whole body stiffening in caution. After a few moments she figured he must have understood that there was no malicious intent behind the feeling for he visibly loosened up and sunk into her kind embrace, emitting a quiet sigh.

Continuing to stroke his abnormal, but beautiful white tresses she locked her eyes onto his own seeking gaze. At first he was silent, watching her with his quietly mature orbs, measuring her up and making swift decisions behind his impenetrable mask.

Finally, his lips parted,

"I'm Toshiro. Toshiro Hitsugaya."

His voice was steady and she could tell just from his voice that his intelligence exceeded his age.

She smiled warmly at him; he didn't say any thank you towards her helping him, or asking of her own name first, or accountability of her actions. No, he did no such thing. All he gave was a name, his name, an invitation welcoming her into his life, giving her the choice of accepting or walking away.

She chose, and of her own volition she welcomed him into her own life with open arms as she stepped into his own.

Lips widening into a smile, she heard her soft voice echo across the deserted land,

"My name's Momo. Momo Hinamori."

The day started out as an average day that held no promises, and yet it marked the beginning of an important chapter in her life. All thanks to her unstable temper and naïve outlook on justice.

The girl's unnamed power swirled around its holder and her new companion as though it were tiny peach blossoms, assuring the girl that it did indeed have a name, that it was as true a part of her being as any functioning body part. It too was another stepping stone that led to an important part of her future.

A special power that intimidates and defends, as well as protects, comforts, and provides strength.

It is hers and hers alone.

Hers, Hinamori Momo's spirit force.

Her very own reiatsu.

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Author's Note: I really like the pairing HitsuHina, but i can never write a really fluffy or sappy fic on them because, to me, it feels wrong...

i enjoy writing meaningful or insightful fics on the both of them (usually Momo though)

Constructive criticism welcomed, flames can go to hell because that's where they belong.

Hope you enjoyed! Please review, it inspires me.


	2. Goal

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach as I have already said before. If I did then Hinamori would not have ever been in a coma.

If you like this story but want more HitsuHina action then I reccomend my other fanfic: Her Typical Love Story. It is much less serious than this story and it's only a oneshot.

The third chapter will be posted soon. Enjoy!

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She wanted it.

She wanted it so bad she would have gone to any desperate means to achieve it.

It held her desire. It held all her passion and motivation. It was her one and only priority that she and she alone would somehow find a way to achieve it.

Odd how one simple thing could mean so much to a person such as herself, a person who is always so carefree and optimistic, yet naïve and brutally innocent. To awaken such alien emotions from her delicate personality definitely meant something.

As she worked with blind determination toward her prize she faintly understood the pros and cons of her stubborn demeanor.

She was creating a gap. A gap between her and the one she loves. Her most beloved friend was quickly being pushed to the side at a frightening pace; she guiltily accepted the fact that it was her fault for the isolation on her behalf. A snowy haired boy who was once the centre of her world was slowly being forgotten.

But even so, her achievements were great.

Reflexes showed results of a dramatic improvement; her fighting techniques were coming close to perfection each time she practiced during the day. Kido was a different story altogether.

Ever since she figured out the anonymous source of her power to be her reiatsu she quickly learnt how to control it. The academy taught her to shape her power in accordance to her emotions, creating kido spells so great its capability ranging from knocking out an enemy to decapitating five hollow at once. After much practice, she learnt that she had a knack for the dangerous use of spirit power.

When she discussed this with her close confidants, Izuru and Renji, they both nodded and patted her head in an endearing way. Izuru went on to say how a shinigami's kido level increases with the strength of a person's emotions toward a specific goal. Renji gave a lopsided smirk when he noticed the confusion setting upon her blank face.

"Yeah, and no one has a stronger goal than our Momo."

Lowering her eyes she felt something click.

A goal.

Yes, that was it!

All her training, all her hard work from sweat and tears, every ounce of her will pushing her to the absolute limit to achieve that one desire.

A goal.

Her very own goal.

And if what Renji and Izuru said were true then, goddamit, she would reach that goal with her own power, her own strength.

These thoughts raced through Momo's mind as she lifted a quivering and bloody hand to grasp the hilt of her sword.

Staggering to her feet, she heaved heavy breaths of cool air that shook her small frame. Scrapes and cuts littered her body, her academy uniform barely noticeable from the mixture of sweat and blood soaking through the linen fabric.

Her hair had come undone from its practical pigtails, chocolate locks dusty from grit and dust flew wildly around her face from the harsh winds.

Her throat was parched. Her stance was tired. Her lips were cracked with a small trickle of scarlet red running from a corner of her mouth.

And yet she was steady. Steady as a boulder that refuses to yield to the tornado that stands ominously before it. She waited her whole life for this moment. This one moment where she would prove she was worthy of reaching that goal.

Taking a slow breath, she internally summoned her spirit power. Her spirit power that wields to her temper and, oh, is her temper great.

Fury slowly fused into the whirlpool of determination and want, fury for the simple reason of anger towards anything that chooses to stand in her path.

The compassionate side of her which had been shoved to the side prays that the opponent understands that once anything stands in her way it shall be cut down by her own hands.

The spirit force began to spiral into a hurricane worthy of a truly devoted shinigami. It spiraled around her as she felt words begin to form and push past her lips.

"Snap… Tobiume!"

The rest was a blur. All she could remember was blood of hollows raining upon the soil of the earth…

and white.

White hot fury. White hot resolve. The two components giving evidence to her white hot temper.

The last she remembered before she fell to the ground in an unconscious heap was a voice echoing across the empty battle field.

"Lieutenant's Exam complete. Mission: Success. Hinamori Momo has achieved Lieutenant's class."

Only later would she witness the smiling faces of her dear friends, although only one face would she remember forever from all the guests in her hospital room. Pride lighting his sharp teal orbs even as he scolded her for pushing herself too hard. Smiling, she would kiss his cheek lovingly in apology only to watch him scoff, fold his arms, and mutter "stupid" under his breath as a rich cherry color painted his normally stoic face.

But that would be later.

And only later would she be told her new ranking of Lieutenant would be under Captain Aizen Sousuke of 5th company.

And only later would her eyes tear with happiness at the realization of her life goal being fulfilled.

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Author's Note: I liked this idea because it talks a bit about how lieutenants worked hard to get to where they are in the Soul Society. And, gasp, there was even a slice of HitsuHina shoved in at the end! :D

Just a reminder, these chapters can be taken as oneshots. They may, at a moment or two, refer to the previous chapters to keep the story going smoothly.

Please review! This may sound annoying to some, but the honest to god truth is that feedback gives us authors an extra kick of motivation. It always feels good to know that someone is enjoying your fanfic.

No flames, please!


	3. A Dying Thought

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach, but if I did Hinamori would have cut her hair by now, she would be healthy again, she would be fighting in the war, Aizen would be dead, Hitsugaya would tell everyone that he uses hair spray to make his hair look like that… want me to keep going?

Before you start reading, I just want to say I'M SO SORRY! I haven't uploaded in sooo long and I have, like, 3 more chapters to type up before this fanfic is officially done…

Truth is, I only got a couple of reviews so I thought no one was reading my story, but then my friend told me that I can see how many people have read my story by clicking "Stats". insert sweat drop

Lots of people have read my stories it seems, but there are so few reviews that I assume no one likes the story or everyone just chooses to read then leave. Please review! It lets me know that people want me to write more and that's when I start posting up chapters.

Thanks for letting me say this and now please enjoy reading the third chapter of Her Temper :D

How had it come to this?

How _could _it have come to this?

It all started with the ryoka, coming into Seireitei, plans unknown.

Her captain was always warm and kind, generosity pouring out of his soul. But when the ryoka's presence was made known he began to wear a frown about the company instead of his usual peaceful smile, welcoming everyone and anyone for a polite conversation.

That was her beloved captain: always smiling, always warm, and always kind.

She loved him, but not in the way most people assumed. It was never a high school crush of a lovesick teenaged girl. No, but more of a loyal-to-the-very-end type of love. To her it would always be a lieutenant-to-a-captain relationship, for she never would impose her feelings upon Aizen-taicho. For him, her feelings ran deeper than any mouthful of words could possibly begin to describe, admiration and true happiness was the core of it.

He was her base of support, her root of motivation.

And he was dead.

She felt the cold dread of realization seep to the very tips of her toes. Her chest felt strained from the reality of what was staring right at her. Disbelief, dread, and pain, oh, above all, _pain__**,**_ clogged her throat. Her control was slowly letting go, she knew her reiatsu was beginning to skyrocket to unstable levels.

It didn't matter.

Her most admired captain had been taken from her. Never again would he pat her head in reassurance. Never again would he ask her for an update on the company's productivity. Never again would he ask her to retrieve the paper work from the other squads.

And never again would he need her.

That was what hurt most of all. That was what morphed her tortured emotions into the tornado of deadly anger and blame. It was **his **fault. How **dare** he! Ichimaru Gin, Captain of third squad. The only person Toshiro ever warned her to be wary of.

The source of her spirit power turned from a gradually growing flame into a wild and out of control fire in a split second.

Charging at a captain full on without assessing the situation properly would have meant her death. Even with a back bone stemming from her infamous temper, she would have been killed instantly. She was only a lieutenant, nowhere near as strong or experienced as a captain. But at that moment it did not matter. Propelled by the image of her dead captain, nothing could have prevented her from rushing into her inevitable death. That temper of hers, she realized in the subconscious of her mind, was going to lead her to her end.

And yet, she was lucky.

There was no other way to say it, for Izuru-kun, classmate and dear friend, had blocked her brutal swing from Tobiume with his own soul slayer, Wabisuke.

His face was thunder. As he scolded her coldly for her behavior she felt confusion begin to cloud her thoughts. It was _Izuru_, her friend. Why? Why was he stopping her from avenging her captain? Didn't he know his captain was the one who murdered her own? They're friends…aren't they?

_So why_, she thought numbly, _are we fighting each other?_

The core of her fury was slowly being penetrated with desperation and confusion. And yet, still, she asked him to move, to let her avenge her captain by killing his. She knew what she asked was crazy and illogical, but at the moment everything just seemed too surreal for her to handle. Just as she and Izuru attempted to clash swords for a second more deadly attack he appeared.

Blocking both fierce strikes easily as though their released zanpakutos were skinny wooden sticks, he barked orders without hesitation. Ordering for her and Izuru to be locked away at once.

Toshiro Hitsugaya, youngest captain ever and her childhood friend from so long ago. It was like a bucket of ice water to the face. Her temper materialized into the lake of sadness for her deceased captain. Just one appearance, one look at his mature and penetrating teal orbs and she was back in control.

Ever since she was young he always did have that effect on her. Whether it is frustration of a trivial task or stress from exams, he was always able to make her take a step back and see sense for how things truly are. And for that, she would always harbor eternal gratefulness for how fortunate she was to have met him.

Not too long after being arrested and held back by Rangiku-san and Iba-kun she sat in her own company's jail cell. Contemplating the last words of her beloved captain from a letter received out of the compassion of Toshiro, she couldn't help the feeling of hurt in her gut. Disbelief turned to excuses, which formed into a hardened resolve.

There was no excuse for the actions she committed afterwards.

The words of her captain stoked her avenging demeanor back into full force and she was off running again, desperate if not totally lost as to why her world was turning upside down. But the strangest thing of all was what she did. Everything she said, everything she made happen with her own two hands, _everything_… was simply _not her_.

She would never use kido to knock out an innocent shinigami and, by gods, escape her own cell willingly. And yet, to find the said murderer of her captain, she did.

She would never lift her sword against her Shiro-chan. And yet, with one command from her dead captain, she did.

She would never follow another person while hiding her reiatsu so as not to be noticed. And yet, to discover the truth of her captain's death, she did.

All these split second decisions based solely on avenging her captain led her to now.

On the floor, dying.

Blood, her blood, ran across the wood floor in a deep scarlet tide, the consequence for trusting her captain to the very end.

Only moments ago, her undead captain had stabbed her with his own sword. It was impossible to believe, and yet she witnessed it herself. She was beginning to learn that she being only slightly confused that day was an understatement.

It hurt. It felt like her soul was being ripped to shreds. Everything she believed, everything she understood, everything she loved. Everything she _was_. It was all being crumpled together like a scrap piece of paper waiting to be thrown out.

How did this start? How could I be so out of line? How could I attack my own friends?! How is Aizen-taicho still alive when I saw him dead with my own eyes?

The questions darted through her waning conscious mind.

How did Ichimaru-taicho know about Aizen-taicho's existence? Why is Hitsugaya-kun fighting for me after I tried to kill him?

This question brought more than just tears, it brought guilt, and that hurt more than the fatal wound to her body.

How could Aizen-taicho cut down Hitsugaya-kun so quickly, so cruelly? How could Aizen-taicho attempt to…kill…me…?

The tears leaked over, spilling in thin rivulets down her now pale cheeks. As she looked to the darkening sky she felt her spiritual power begin to slip away. With one last whimper she laid her gradually darkening eyes on her snowy haired protector. The blood gushed out of his torso and ran along the cracks in the floorboards to her stationary body. His warm red blood slowly mixed with her own.

He wasn't Aizen's killer. He was protecting her against harm and even went so far as to release his bankai, his ultimate release. It was her fault.

He was dying, bleeding, in pain because of her. After all his guidance, support and love she gave him only pain and his death.

Her dying thought swirled and disappeared into the cold air such as her body's life mixed with her protector's:

How had it come to this?

Author's Note: I didn't really enjoy writing this chapter… it's kinda gloomy and depressing, but it served its purpose in this fanfic. But don't worry! The other chapters are better, in my opinion, since it brings a slice of HitsuHina and Momo-centric love with it!

Once again, please review. I won't upload the other chapters until I get at least a few reviews. This way I know for sure that I'm not wasting my time slaving over how to end this fanfic.

Thank you again! and to you flamers: go to hell.

atinarox


	4. He's Waiting

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. I wish I could though since then Hinamori would kick ass in the war and HitsuHina would be canon.

A special thank you to MimiMichie who gave the kindest review I have ever gotten in a long time. Thank you so much! I dedicate this chapter to you, I hope you enjoy it.

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Empty. Gone. Obsolete.

Each word held the perfect definition for what the lieutenant of the fifth division felt.

No matter how many times she called for it, attempted to summon it, or even scathingly ordered it to appear all she received was silence in answer.

Dead cold silence. Nothing more and nothing less.

Was it even possible to lose something like this from just one stab of a sword? She was pretty sure it was impossible, but then again the sole purpose of its existence was to make her useful. Useful to her friends, her comrades in battle, and… to him.

He who held all her trust and loyalty in one palm of his hand and her admiration and love in his other. In one simultaneous move he crushed everything he held without mercy, without regret, thus crushing her entire being and everything she believed in.

Captain Aizen.

It was when her captain entered her thoughts that she knew she needed to get some air. To at least think through her dilemma properly before she started to dig into that oh so familiar rut of despair.

Two weeks after her ex-captain's betrayal to not only her but all of Seireitei did she awake from her coma. Sometimes she wished she never woke up. Never before had she faced so many problems and disturbing news all at once.

What she remembered in crystal clearness was the first request she made to a messenger shinigami of her own division. A request, a favor, to which she knew she did not deserve.

"Please… go ask Yamamoto so-taicho to let me speak to…" she swallowed, "to Hitsugaya Toshiro-taicho, despite my state."

She knew there was a higher chance of a straight forward DENIED stamp on her request than actual permission. And yet, for some unfathomable reason, General Yamamoto accepted her request with no questions asked or any side rules of what not-to-do given.

After her short and bitter reunion with Toshiro she began to have regrets for ever talking to her friend at all. An empty look in her eyes matched the smile which was void of warmth. It simply got worse after that.

_Aizen Sousuke attempted to murder you. _

_He is dangerous and unforgiving; he cut down the other captains without any hesitation at all. _

_Your company __needs__ you Hinamori-fukutaicho! No captain or lieutenant is dangerous for any squad. _

_Miss Hinamori, Hitsugaya-taicho received severe injuries when attacking Aizen that night. Judging on his medical records he should still be recovering and taking it easy, but he volunteered to go help the ryoka. _

_Aizen Sousuke is our enemy now. He must be destroyed. _

_Arrancar are showing up in the human world. They must be stopped at once!_

_Hinamori-fukutaicho… we are at war._

I'm weak. I'm just dead weight for everyone now. There is a war coming and everyone's getting ready. Everyone except me.

Momo stared at the stars.

She wondered if he was happy now, if he was truly content with what he did to her and Seireitei. Now that three captains are gone and she, a lieutenant, is left weak, powerless…

and devoid of reiatsu.

She didn't know what to feel… think… or do anymore.

People of the spirit world would tell stories of how pain and fear are the scariest emotions to feel. She thought otherwise. Witnessing the emptiness in such an intimate way definitely surpassed any unwanted feelings of fear or pain.

Confused and lost, she trudged down the pathway of the thirteen court guards.

_6__th__ division_

It's gone.

_7__th__ division_

How could it disappear so quickly?

_8__th__ division_

Am I unsuitable to be a shinigami now?!

_9__th__ division_

I don't know what to do anymore!

_10__th__ division_

She stopped walking.

Tears welled in her cinnamon eyes as she stared at the destination her feet led her to. She stared at the place which held what she yearned for, what she needed most.

Comfort.

Through a rapidly blurring vision she watched her pale hand reach out to knock quietly on the door. She watched as his form appeared, he, clad in a dark blue sleeping yukata, rubbed sleep from his dark sea orbs. She watched his face transform from concern to surprise as she launched herself without a second thought into his form, burying her crying face into his chest.

Without any thought she poured her problems out to him like a waterfall emptying into a lake basin.

"I can't feel it." She cried desperately, the sound muffled by his clothes, "I call it and call it but it won't respond! I… don't know what to do anymore…"

Her voice cracked as she continued her tirade,

"I… I need it. I need it Toshiro. It was the only thing that kept me going as a shinigami! It was what made me useful." She raised her head slightly, her tortured eyes searching to find his own teal ones.

Her tiny hands had fisted his clothes into angry bunches and her deep brown orbs glowed with a torrent of emotion. Diamond tears would not cease their fall from her eyes to his dismay as he took a thumb to gently wipe them away.

His bare arms gently wrapped her into his warm embrace. He held her firmly in reassurance that he was not going anywhere, that he was staying right there with her. As she sobbed quietly into his right shoulder he quietly slid the door shut with his foot. Slowly, he guided her to the floor, his back to the door and the desperate girl in his lap. Her head leaned into his shoulder; her hands did not relieve their grasp from the front of his yukata for a second.

Sniffling, she turned her face to the side, his chin resting upon her dark chocolate locks.

"I'm scared Toshiro. I'm scared of not knowing what to do. I'm scared of knowing the truth and problems of Seireitei. But most of all," her voice caught in her throat, "most of all, I'm scared of nothing."

She peered into the nothingness that went beyond the bland colored walls, her voice getting smaller, more terrified.

"I can't… I can't survive without my spirit power. Without my reiatsu I am… I am nothing!"

He felt her body begin to tremble with choked in sobs. His own heart was suffering, being exposed to the state his dear friend, the only girl who could ever hold his heart, was in. Closing his eyes in sadness he drew her closer to his body, feeling her every curve and detail mold into his own young but chiseled build.

"Oh Momo," he sighed in a low octave voice, "Oh Momo."

He gently lowered his head to press his lips to her temple as he whispered inarticulate, yet soothing reassurances to her. His left hand rose to move along her collarbone and up to thread through her strands of silky chocolate hair.

She whimpered weakly, listening to his heart sound in slow measured beats.

"Don't worry." He held her closer to him. He held on tightly, for he knew he was only driven by passion now.

"Don't worry Momo. Ever since I've known you, you've always had a reason. A reason to pick up Tobiume and fight." He whispered as calmly as he could, an attempt to bring her back to saner means of thinking.

"Soon Momo, you will once again have a reason to fight, and this time it will be a stronger reason. That is when you shall feel it again, when your spiritual power begins to grow again."

Her eyes began to droop closed. Noticing this he softly pet her hair like he did when they were younger. As children he would stroke her hair as she drifted to sleep, watching her with the kindest of eyes that would almost put an angel's to shame. His orbs held the same kindness and love as it did so many years ago.

Sighing softly, she murmured a quickly disappearing insecurity.

"But… how do you know Shiro-kun?"

A small smile graced his lips.

"Because I have faith in you Momo. Now sleep."

And with an innocent smile of her own she closed her eyes.

Someone still believed in her. Someone had not given up on her.

_Someone was still waiting for her._

And as she felt the cool wetness of her last remnants of sadness trickle down her cheeks in thin rivulets, she dreamed.

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Author's Note:

I enjoyed writing the part with Toshiro and Momo-chan. They are such a cute couple to support that I can't help but be obsessed with them!

I think there are only two more chapters to write and then I'm stopping… sadly, there is barely any HitsuHina in the next chapters. Sorry in advance! But the truth is that Hinamori is my favorite character from Bleach even though Tite Kubo is not giving her any justice in the current storyline. Toshiro is a close second though.

Please review! Like I said before, when people review that is when I will start typing and updating.

No flames! Flamers need a life and we all know it.

Until next time,

atinarox


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